Prozac: Day Three

During the morning when I was just about to drift into consciousness but was still asleep, I began to have very vivid dreams. Not full dreams, but images and moments, like when you flip through the channels quickly. The last time this happened to me was probably 2 years ago. I love it when this happens. It’s always cool when your subconscious decides to step up and become the headliner for a ten minutes.

This time, I dreamed of a blue bus. I don’t remember dreaming of something that had a distinct colour before. It sounds cheesy to say that I dreamed in colour for the first time, but that is really what I think happened. It was a bus and it was very far away, but I could see it very clearly and it was this amazing blue colour. I can still see it.

I really felt different today. I felt good. Calm. With purpose. Clear. Actually it was such an odd and new feeling, I actually didn’t like it because it was confusing the hell out of me! This is not supposed to happen. Why do I feel good? I shouldn’t feel good, my life sucks. It takes weeks for anti-depressants to take effect. I’ve only been on this stuff for three days and it’s only 10 measly milligrams. I feel good. According to what I’ve read so far, shouldn’t I be plotting a bloodletting at this point? What the hell?

I went to the library and found a book called “Prozac – a Diary” written by Lauren Slater and I got home and started reading. 20 pages into it, it became a great book. One hour into it, I realized that I was lying on a couch in a basement reading a book. This was not good enough. I should go out. I should go to a park and read this while sitting under a big tree and drink bottled water and smoke. I should meet up with a friend afterwards and chill for a bit before going home for something to eat.

So, that’s what I did.

This shouldn’t be happening. It’s only been three fucking days… The suspense is killing me!